


Your Father's Home

by Alpaca_Queen



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: AU - Canon Divergence, F/M, OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpaca_Queen/pseuds/Alpaca_Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn't know what to do. Shortly after Randall's disappearance---she couldn't yet bear to say the word "death"---Angela discovered her pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Father's Home

She didn't know what to do. Shortly after Randall's disappearance---she couldn't yet bear to say the word "death"---Angela discovered her pregnancy. She couldn't bring herself to be upset about it, like she felt she should be, but was instead glad to have some piece of Randall still with her. She often found herself looking off towards the Azran ruins while rubbing her stomach, sometimes talking to the child and recounting stories about their father.  
As the months wore on, it became increasingly harder to hide her growing belly. Her parents did not share her happiness on the matter, and she soon found herself with no place to go. Randall's family held no doubt that the child was his, unlike Angela's mother (who called her a whore), and they offered to take her in. They took care of her, since she was so grief-stricken she could barely take care of herself. Henry seemed as fascinated by Angela's stomach as she was. They spoke to the baby together, and they wept together at night.  
When her son was finally born, after an emotionally-trying nine months of pregnancy, Angela burst into tears and held him close. With the wispy beginnings of red hair, the expressive brown eyes... he was the spitting image of her beloved Randall. She only saw hints of herself in the boy. Thomas Randall Ascot. That would be his name.  
As Thomas grew, Angela could see the shadow of Randall in his every moment, whether it was in his quirked smile or when he tromped in from the backyard covered in dirt. Thomas noticed the moments where his mother would stop and stare at him, looking as if she was in another place and another time, tears welling in her eyes. Whenever he asked what was wrong, she brushed away the tears and carefully schooled her expression, simply telling him that she loved him and stroking his flaming hair. He sometimes saw the same look on Uncle Henry, Grandma, and Grandpa.  
The pain faded with time, but it became difficult when Thomas was old enough to start wondering about his father. Though Henry had played a key role in raising the boy, Thomas knew Uncle Henry wasn't his father. Angela repeated to him the stories of Randall she had told him in the womb whenever he pestered her.  
"Where is Papa now?" he would query.  
"He's.... away. He'll come home soon," she would always reply.  
After a while, he stopped wondering.  
[8 years later] "Randall, my marriage to Henry wasn't real," Angela explained, "After I lost you, I didn't know how to go on. I had given up so completely I nearly married just so that the gossip about me would stop. But then Henry asked me. I will never forget it. He said, "Will you wait for Master Randall with me?" Henry always believed you would come back. He helped me believe too. So we agreed to pretend to be married... until the day you returned, Randall."  
"But you have a child!" returned Randall.  
"...You haven't seen my son, have you, Randall?" she asked with a wry, sad smile.  
"What do you----" Randall started, only to be interrupted by the voice of a young boy.  
"Mum? What was all that shaking?" Thomas stumbled out of his house, running to his mother's side.  
"It's nothing to worry about, Tom," she reassured, petting his head.  
Meanwhile, Randall stood transfixed by the appearance of the child. Namely, his hair...  
"Is that..." he swallowed and started again, "Tom, how old are you?"  
"I'm fourteen," he declared proudly.  
"The right age but...how?" Randall looked back and forth from Angela to Thomas.  
Tom turned to Angela. "Who is this, mum?"  
Tears filling her eyes, she simply said, "Thomas, your father's come home," before nudging him towards Randall.  
Randall fell to his knees as he was embraced by his love and their son. He pulled the boy gently back so he could see his face, kissing his forehead fiercely and burying his face in the hair that so resembled his own. The others turned away, letting the happy family have their moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I shortened the amount of time Randall was away because I wanted Thomas to still be a child. According to canon, he would be seventeen.


End file.
